


Arbutus

by flxmelxnce



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Language of Flowers, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Valentine's Day Fluff, florist nezha u are everything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:15:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29549868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flxmelxnce/pseuds/flxmelxnce
Summary: February was a dull month for Baal. Except when he met an eccentric florist, that is."Here to buy flowers?" He asked, a tinge of a smirk on his lips. "Perhaps for a lover?"
Relationships: Baal/Nezha (Granblue Fantasy)
Kudos: 7





	Arbutus

**Author's Note:**

> hallo
> 
> this was supposed to be for valentines day but it just kept getting longer and longer and so here we are with a chapter fic-  
> also i apologize in advance if this updates v v slowly because i have no coordination at all with chapter fics and i'm not completely back to writing yet so yes ;w; i don't have a concrete number of chapters planned for this so i'm leaving it as unknown for now but realistically it shouldn't go past 5 chapters... i think, i hope-
> 
> anyways i hope y'all enjoy my messy flower shop au hgkehegkhe

The day was bright with the fresh rays of the morning sun, light cascading across the cement pavement and making the small town around Baal glow in earnest. He enjoyed the early mornings, for numerous reasons. The absence of the usually bustling passerby, the silence from the traffic, the sound of the birds singing their melodies of a new day— it was peaceful, quaint, and exactly what Baal needed to fully wake from his hours of slumber. Some people (namely Medusa) thought it was odd for a musician like him to enjoy silence. And while Baal did enjoy his fair share of crowd watching and listening to the hum of mixed conversations travelling through the air, sometimes he just needed a change of pace. One that would let him have the time to let his thoughts wander, such as now.

February was an uneventful month for him. Not that the other months proved to be much else, but Baal supposed he just harboured a larger amount of indifference for the month that was primarily reserved for those who wanted to give back to their loved ones. It was exactly why he was called out today by his otherwise cacophonous friend, who wanted to prepare early for the Valentines Day celebrations. Why he agreed to accompany her was something he wasn't entirely sure of either, but now that he did, he might as well take advantage of the discounted chocolates.

He arrived at his destination after crossing the street, a scowl automatically forming on his lips seeing the familiar figure of Medusa sitting at one of the tables outside of the modest looking cafe, her figure shadowed by the large patio umbrella standing in the middle of the counter. She glanced up from her phone upon seeing Baal from the corner of her eye, her expression mimicking the musician's. " _You're late_ ," she stated with her usual bite, setting her device aside and instead clutching the drink in front of her with both hands. An extravagant frappuccino, Baal guessed, judging by the mountain of whipped cream on top.

Baal took off his earbuds before checking the time on his phone; 9:32. "It's only been two minutes," he scoffed in reply, sitting down on the chair opposite to Medusa. Upon being seated, he noticed the tray of drinks off to the side, and quirked a brow at his friend. "Are more people coming? I thought you wanted to go shopping."

"Ah, no." Medusa's tone softened back into her usual voice, eyebrows releasing their tension. "But here, since you wanted to take your _sweet time_ getting here—" Ah, nevermind, there was the venom again— "I got you your drink already." She tugged one of the hot drinks out of the tray, sliding it over to Baal. "I assumed you'd be fine with the thing you usually get. And before you say anything don't bother paying me back!" She ended with a huff, angrily sipping her drink with a dust of pink on her cheeks.

Baal was taken aback by the gesture, but nonetheless accepted it, sighing and then muttering a small thanks— to which elicited a small _humph_ from his companion. He took the warm cup into his hand, and the immediate smell of grapefruit hit his nose. He was surprised that Medusa even paid attention to his preferences, much less how this cafe in particular made the best grapefruit tea in his opinion. Regardless, he took a sip, initially wincing at the citric taste, but it quickly mellowed as the honey and cinnamon balanced out the sourness, and he was left to hum in content. "And the other two?" He asked, pointing a finger at the duo of drinks left on the tray.

"We're going to Satyr's flower shop first. I got her and her coworker something." Medusa mused, stirring her drink with her straw.

Baal raised a brow, frowning. "You bought a drink for a random employee?"

"No that's not it!" Medusa groaned. "Stheno and Euryale apparently know him... Said that he was their junior back in high school or something like that... Around our ages so they wanted me to get to know him..." She said with a rather defeated look, which unexpectedly lightened up into one of cockiness. "Well whatever! If he was Stheno and Euryale's junior, then he has to respect me too, right? I am their younger sister after all!"

"I wouldn't say that with that much confidence if I were you," Baal huffed, his eyebrows creasing even more. "Weren't Stheno and Euryale delinquents early on in high school?"

Medusa froze.

"R-Right..." She muttered out, and Baal could almost chuckle. "But there's no way! I mean, would he really be working at a flower shop of all things if he were still a delinquent?!"

"You never know," Baal shrugged, before he had a sudden jolt of realization. "... Didn't Satyr get along well with the delinquents back then?"

"A-Ah..."

* * *

It wasn't a long walk until they reached Satyr's petite building of flora, the word _Pheltronan_ inscribed in elegant font along the top of the shop. Outside, a healthy collection of blooming flowers happily collected their nutrients from the bright rays of the sun, and Baal could feel his nose already starting to itch as they neared the cluster of bright blossoms. There was a golden bell atop the entrance to the boutique, and as if perfectly on cue, it chimed in greeting as the familiar owner of the shop skipped outside, a hefty pot of dandelions in her arms that seemed to weigh nothing to her.

Though, when she caught sight of Baal and Medusa approaching her, she almost dropped said plant from glee.

"Medussy! And Baally!" She exclaimed, her lips drawn into a wide grin as she hurriedly placed the dandelions aside. Wiping her hands off on her apron, Satyr charged at Medusa, and Baal had just enough reaction time to take the tray of drinks in Medusa's hands before they were ultimately squished by their all too energetic friend.

"I didn't know you two were coming by so early!" She smiled, giggling as Medusa let out an embarrassed groan at the PDA. "Are you going to buy flowers too? At least stay a bit to chat, there's plenty of time before the customers come!"

Medusa, although being smothered by Satyr, was still able to cast a glance at Baal— a silent inquiry to see if he was okay with the pitstop, and he only shrugged his shoulders in indifference. He was still being dragged around regardless. 

"Jeez, fine, fine! We'll stay for a while!" Medusa managed to say after getting Baal's agreement, still struggling against Satyr's life threatening hug. Though luckily for her, Satyr detached herself from Medusa with an excited squeal, frantically scampering towards the door and holding it open, beaming happily at the two of them. "Come in come in!" She ushered.

They entered the quiet flower shop after exchanging a quiet glance at each other, and Baal had to pause in surprise at how much bigger it seemed on the inside. The vintage design Satyr went for certainly made the shop feel more welcoming and homey, with the white painted walls and wooden furniture. Plants of varying sizes and breeds were decorating the sides of the building, tactfully placed to allow enough room to wander and observe each one without intruding in its space. There was even an open upstairs section off to the far back, where the dried flora were hung along the ceiling's wooden support beams.

And it was then that Baal noticed the coworker that Medusa spoke of earlier. He was a tall figure, lean and probably built judging by the way his turtleneck hugged at his forearms as he worked. Sleek black hair was pushed back from his face, and if Baal could see correctly, his eyes were a unique shade of soft blue.

In short, he was...

"Medusa," he muttered, to which his shorter companion grunted at, slowly following Baal's gaze to the stranger. "What do you think?"

She frowned, dragging out a long hum under her breath. "I mean... he doesn't _look_ like a delinquent..."

Right after her quiet mutter of words, the unknown male caught their stares and made eye contact, to which the two of them abruptly stilled at. Hues of ocean blue eyed them both carefully, picking them apart piece by piece with creased brows until he seemed to have come to a conclusion and smiled. "Ah, you must be Stheno and Euryale's younger sibling," he mused towards Medusa, voice deep with a note of huskiness. He slung an arm across the railing that bordered the upstairs flooring, while he rested his cheek in the palm of the other, giving his full attention to the two newcomers.

"You've got that right!" Medusa replied a bit too confidently, and Baal internally grimaced. "So? What's your name? My sisters probably told you about me before, so I don't need to introduce myself, right?"

The stranger blinked slowly, tilting his head. "... No? Rather, it was Satyr who told me about you," he stated matter of factly, expression lined with mild confusion.

Baal let out a muted chuckle.

"I- Why you little...!" Medusa hissed, and the man's troubled features only deepened, completely oblivious to the offense Medusa took from his words.

"Now, now! Nezha, shh! You're making Medussy embarrassed!" Satyr stepped in, pouting up at the man who's name was now known to the duo of outsiders.

"I'm not- _God_ , both of you are insufferable!" Medusa groaned.

"No! Medussy don't be mad!" Satyr whined, attaching herself to Medusa's side once more, patting her head and attempting to comfort Baal's white haired companion.

Leaving Baal unoccupied for the time being.

Seeing as how he was holding onto both his own drink and the tray now, he let out a quiet sigh and sauntered over to the checkout counter, placing the tray of drinks down and then assessing them both. If he knew Satyr's tastes correctly, then the abnormally bright pink frappuccino must be hers, while the unknown hot drink must be for the man named Nezha.

Taking the drink out, Baal took the initiative to have a proper introduction to the other florist. He made his way up the stairs, each step creaking under his weight until he made it to the top— to which he was greeted by Nezha's curious blue gaze.

Baal wordlessly outstretched his hand that held Nezha's drink, and the latter widened his eyes before flashing a smile of gratitude, taking it from him. "Thank you...?" His voice tapered into a questioning tone, indirectly asking Baal for his name.

"Baal," he said, short and polite.

The taller male nodded. "Nezha," he introduced, just as brief as Baal's. "I assume you're also an acquaintance of Satyr's? Or perhaps more of a friend?"

He spoke in a well-mannered fashion, is what Baal took note of immediately. He carried an air that wasn't of cockiness, but rather one that was curious, blunt, and perhaps another thing that Baal couldn't identify. Mysterious maybe? He'd settle with that for now. "You could say that," Baal replied with a huff, casually leaning against the railing next to the table Nezha worked on, eyeing the various flora and string scattered atop the counter. "And you?"

"Who knows," Nezha shrugged with a chuckle, taking a sip from his drink before placing it aside.

Baal frowned. Definitely mysterious.

"Here to buy flowers?" Nezha changed the topic instead, a tinge of a smirk on his lips. "Perhaps for a lover?"

Baal paused, raising a brow. "Are you asking if I'm _single_?" He questioned, voice just the slightest bit accusatory.

Nezha blinked, surprised, then barked out a laugh— deep and mellow, a sound that seemed to suit someone like him, Baal thought to himself. "Not at all, but I apologize if it seemed that way." He smirked, resuming his task of bundling the individual flowers on the table. "With the month being what it is, we've seen more customers looking for flowers for their significant other rather than just the lone customer or two who want to freshen their homes a bit more."

For a moment Baal forgot that flowers were often bought for Valentines Day as well. "I don't think I can take care of live flowers so no," he replied after a slow pause, finishing his sentence with a small shrug.

"Which is why..." Nezha trailed off, fumbling through the batch of wilting flowers on his table before picking out a long stem of a pink hyacinth plant, pinching it between two fingers and tilting it towards Baal. "You get dried flowers," he stated with a smirk, much more teasing and playful than the last one he gave.

A strange combination of a personality Nezha had. In only a mere amount of seconds did he go from polite and civil to impish and whimsical. Baal frowned inwardly to himself. Just what kind of employees did Satyr hire?

He shooed away Nezha's hand with his own, ignoring how the latter chuckled at the action. "They're less of a hassle, so maybe. I have a cat though, which might complicate things." He could only imagine the eager look on Hannibal's face if he were to bring such a fragile thing such as flowers back to his apartment. If he took his eyes off of his pet for one second they'd be ripped to shreds in a heartbeat.

"Is that so?" Nezha blinked, surprise evident in his widened blue eyes before it was washed over with a look of what seemed to be intrigue. "Hmm... Yes, you do seem like a cat type of person..." He muttered, more so to himself if anything.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Baal scoffed, realizing a bit too late that his sharp tongue had come out and he bit back a wince. He tried his best not to show it when meeting new people, it was only polite until they got to know Baal better. But somehow Nezha showing Baal the cards of his own nature led him to do the same, albeit unconsciously.

However, Nezha didn't seem to mind at all. In fact, if Baal's eyes weren't deceiving him, there seemed to be more of a liveliness in his gaze after hearing Baal's response. "Nothing," he mused, bundling a cluster of carnations together with string. He flashed Baal a quick smile, "I'm also more of a cat person myself."

"Oh really now?" Baal huffed, oblivious to his lips slowly quirking up. "You seem more like a dog person," he shot back.

This made Nezha howl out an even louder laugh than before, boisterous and powerful, and Baal swore he could probably shake the entire boutique with his voice alone. He nonchalantly took a sip from his cup, not even acknowledging once how he _really_ was smiling now.

"Hey! What the hell are you two doing up there?" Medusa shouted from the bottom floor, and both Baal and Nezha directed their attentions to where the said female stood near the cash register, Satyr grinning at her side— her face the exact definition of adoration, which contrasted Medusa's one of annoyance. "Honestly, you two are already all buddy-buddy with each other! What, are you gonna start hanging out with him now?"

"It's much better than being with you and listening to your screeching consonances," Baal grunted.

"Oh is that so?" Medusa roared, "I do one nice thing for you for once and this is the thanks I get?!"

"Now now, Medussy! You know Baally cares about you!" Satyr protested, reigning Medusa back by the shoulders. "Aren't you happy for him that he's getting along with someone else so well?"

Now it was Baal's turn to get defensive. "Wait, hold on Satyr! I'm not-" He straightened his posture, fumbling for the correct words to tell Satyr " _no, I'm absolutely not getting along with this person I just met today_ ," but they refused to come out. Instead, he was left to stand there dumbly, watching as Satyr ignored his protests to comfort Medusa instead, and hearing amused snickers coming from his immediate left.

"Well, I suppose it's only right for me to take the compliment," Nezha mused, a hand hovering over his mouth that shielded his grin from everyone but Baal.

"There's no compliment to take," Baal rebutted.

"Whatever you say," Nezha hummed.

"We're leaving Baal!" Medusa hollered, her small figure already standing next to the door. "But I'm sure you'd rather stay here than come, huh!"

"For once you get something right," Baal huffed, but nonetheless exchanged one last glance at Nezha in a silent farewell, before descending down the stairs back to the main floor.

That is, until he heard a pair of footsteps following him downstairs, and a hand was soon on his shoulder, stopping him. "Wait here a moment," Nezha said, retracting his hand just as quickly and sauntered over to the checkout counter, with Baal staring at him in dumbfoundment. 

He watched as the florist pulled out a bag from behind the desk, muttering something about how _it should be long enough to fit_ , and then disappeared into the back room— which Baal assumed to be where Satyr stored her non-flower things. And what seemed like a minute later did Nezha remerge, still murmuring things under his breath with a thoughtful look on his face as he slipped past Baal and went back up the stairs, scuffled again with his table of dried flora, and then descended back down to Baal and promptly handed him the brown bag. "On the house," he grinned, chuckling a bit when Baal fumbled with the handles that were suddenly shoved into his hand.

"I- _What_?" Baal turned around, locking eyes with Satyr who had been preoccupied with watering her collection of greenery. "Is this really okay for an employee to do?" He asked in disbelief.

"Nezha's the manager~" Satyr corrected, giggling. "If he's insisting, then you should take it Baally! Last time I went to your apartment it looked so plain and dry. Have something to spice things up a bit!"

"Gee, thanks," Baal retorted, turning back to face Nezha. "And... thanks too, I guess." He wasn't the greatest at receiving gifts, and he hoped that Nezha wouldn't be too offended by his awkwardness.

But the florist only flashed a smirk at him that was a borderline perfect customer service smile, and Baal didn't know whether that meant that he _was_ offended by Baal's seemingly ingenuine words, or if that really was just his regular expression of acknowledgement.

"And I don't get a gift too?" Medusa muttered under her breath, crossing her arms with a silent huff. 

"It's okay Medussy! Next time you visit I'll have the biggest bouquet for you!" Satyr grinned, and Medusa scoffed in a mixture of both doubt and embarrassment, her ears turning red at the tips.

"I'm outta here," she gritted through clenched teeth. "I'm ditching you Baal!" She called over her shoulder, pushing the door open and marching out.

"You say that and yet you were the one who dragged me out here in the first place," he refuted. Sparing one last look at Nezha, who only gave a nod towards him in a final sendoff, he followed after his white haired companion out the door.

* * *

When Baal returned back to his apartment in the afternoon, fatigued and slightly bitter at having been dragged around the mall for hours, the first thing he did was feed Hannibal before ungracefully freefalling onto the couch— being careful not to ruin the brown bag that his fingers were still clenched onto.

With a thoughtful hum, he carefully pulled open the bag and dug through the various linings of tissue paper that cushioned whatever its inner contents were. And at the sound of Baal's shuffling, Hannibal eagerly meowed from where his food dish was in the kitchen, and Baal soon heard the light patter of his feline's footsteps making his way towards him.

"There's no treats," Baal told his pet when he hopped up onto the couch's armrest, tilting his head in curiosity at the bag in his owner's hands. "But here..." his sentence trailed off as he took a couple linings of the tissue paper and crumpled them into a sizable ball, tossing it into the air and catching it as a test. "Fetch," he commanded, throwing the makeshift toy down the hallway, and Hannibal more than willingly leap after it, purring all the way.

Completing his task of distracting his cat, Baal dug through the bag again until his hands felt something cold. Frowning, he gently lifted the object up with both hands, inspecting it with a faint amount of surprise etched into his features.

It was a vase. A tall, pale white vase that was rectangular in shape. It was rather plain looking yes, but Baal immediately understood why exactly the design was so simple when he looked at what was placed inside the jar.

A singular lavender rose delicately sat inside the vase, wholly taking the stage and making its presence well known against the ordinary white of the container it was in. Baal never truly understood why people were so fixated in flowers, perhaps because they didn't serve much purpose other than as a piece of decoration. But in that moment, Baal wanted to say that he could sympathize with those people a bit more, even if it was just a fleeting feeling that sprouted from this particular gift. 

He gently brushed his fingertips along its outer petals, dry and fragile, then down the stalk of the flower, careful to not prick his skin with the thorns.

It was pretty.

There was a spec of blue at the bottom of the vase, and Baal's brow quirked up in confusion, which only amplified when he plucked it off to reveal a small sticky note with penmanship far too elegant that it made Baal suddenly feel self conscious.

_Keep it in a dry area without sunlight. They're rare so take special care of it. :)_

" _Rare_ , huh..." Baal echoed, standing up from the couch. "Yet you gave it away without so much of a second thought." He maneuvered around Hannibal's form in the corridor, who was still preoccupied with smacking a paper ball with his paw, and turned towards his bedroom, turning the knob and opening the door. 

His scarlet gaze silently assessed his room, blatantly ignoring the unruly sprawls of sheet music, his half-made bed, and the torn cat toys scattered on the floor, until they finally settled on his desk. "... Good enough, right?" Baal shrugged to himself, glancing at the vase and note in his hand, and then shuffled over to the table. He cleared a small corner of his work station free of his messy compositions and haphazard music notes, then set the vase down. And having nowhere to put the note and not wanting to throw it away either, he stuck it onto the front of the vase— a reminder for him to actually take care of it.

He heard a meow come from behind him, and Baal turned his head just in time to see Hannibal patter into his room, bits of tissue paper stuck to his fur.

Looked like he had to vacuum.

Baal scooped up his cat before he could reach the desk, cradling Hannibal in his arms and giving the feline a definitive glare. "You can't touch this—" he pointed at the vase— "or else I'm getting rid of your bed." Which wasn't necessarily much of a threat, considering Hannibal preferred to sleep on every cushioned surface in existence other than his very own cat bed. Spoiled brat.

And as if knowing Baal's empty menace, Hannibal purred, swishing his tail. Though, he made no move to escape Baal's hold, which relieved the musician to a degree at the very least.

He let out a muted sigh, rubbing Hannibal's belly with rough affection as his gaze travelled farther into his room, towards the singular guitar sitting against its stand in the far corner. The sunlight peaking through his curtains shined directly on the violet and cobalt colouring of the body, making the instrument glow and illuminate amidst the dullness of Baal's room.

He had an itch to write a new song.

**Author's Note:**

> former delinquent florist nezha will always live in my brain don't look at me-


End file.
